


this is how it starts

by noselick (16and18)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Exhibitionism, I'm Bad At Tagging, ITS WILD, Kid Fic, Love at First Sight, M/M, Marijuana, OK NOW FOR SMUT, Oral Sex, Teacher Harry, i guess, in a school, its weed but, louis sucks harry off in a science lab, rest in peace zouis, this has zouis in it but RIP in peace i wrote that bit before the Big Twitter Fight, well louis has kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:11:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16and18/pseuds/noselick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>“Um, Louis? Are you sure the weed is in the kitchen cabinet?” </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <b>“Yeah, it's always been there.” Game over flashes on the screen as Louis misses to swipe a ninja. </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <b>Zayn re-enters the living room with a tupperware in his hand. “Well, if you plan on smoking on a ham and cheese sandwich, be my guest.”</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Louis is a single dad of two kids. He might've switched his stash of weed with his son's school lunch for the day. Mr Styles saves the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is how it starts

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by that one pic of louis rolling a joint on a comic book with a tupperware of weed in the background. this also goes out to the ech squad: ariana, michelle, anileah and katie for pushing me along and we all made a little prompt in our group dm. 
> 
> WORD OF WARNING: i didnt proofread this so PLEASE message me if you find any errors. my twitter is in the end notes if you find any.
> 
> enjoy my first fic ive finished in ages. this is on the verge of being a crack fic.
> 
> (title from sex by the 1975)

It's 8 in the morning, and Louis slept in.

One would think that for a single dad who's been raising two kids for 6 years now, he'd be used to waking up early and preparing the kids for school. With Louis, sadly, that is not the case.

He hops out of bed, grabbing a shirt that's been tossed on the floor. He's bolting out the door and knocking on James' and Emily's bedroom doors.

“Em, James, wake up kiddos! We're late!”

He goes to the bathroom and splashes his face with cold water and quickly brushes his teeth. As he shaves his two-week old stubble, he hears the squeak of doors opening and makes a mental note to oil them later (not that he'll remember anyway). He slides into the small kitchen and quickly pulls out pancake mix, opening the cap and making two blobs in the pan. He turns around and grabs the orange juice carton and pours two glasses.

He sends a quick text to Zayn asking if he wanted to smoke a joint this afternoon. He needs to unwind after this whirlwind of a morning.

“Dad?” James' loud voice rings throughout the small house, accompanied by the sound of two feet making it down the stairs. “Have you seen my Superman t-shirt?”

“Erm…,” Louis says out loud, suddenly remembering that he tossed it into the washing machine last night. “Can't you wear another shirt?”

He scrapes the pancakes off the pan and onto two plates, decorating Emily's pancake with maple syrup in the form of an E and James' with a J. _Five stars for presentation_ , he thinks to himself.

“But _Daaaaaaaaad_ ,” James says, tugging on Louis' shirt. His lips are formed into a pout.

“Sorry, James, I forgot to wash it last night.” He turns the stove off and dumps the pan into the sink. “Could'ya please get dressed now? I've got to get you to school in 15 minutes.”

The 7-year-old mock punches Louis stomach and sadly makes his way back upstairs. Emily nearly bumps into him and rushes to Louis, who is frantically packing their lunches.

Louis' phone beeps with a message from Zayn saying, _yeah i'll b there at 2_ and is about to reply when he feels Emily poking at his side.

“Dad, can I have 5 dollars?”

Louis turns to the 10-year-old who's already dressed and ready for school (if there's a god, Louis thanks them greatly). He grabs a tupperware from the cabinet and stuffs it into James' lunchbox.

“Why do you need it again?” Louis zips Emily's lunchbox and hands it to her. “James! Breakfast!”

Emily slips into her chair at the dining table. “Field trip on Friday.”

James hurries down to the dining table, black trainers unlaced. “Ems, could you tie James' laces? Please and thank you.”

“He should start learning by himself, he's already seven.” She bends down nonetheless, muttering _bunny ears go under the tree…_

“He'll learn one day, just not now.” Louis glances at the clock which reads _8:20_. “Get those pancakes in your stomachs, kids! 5 minutes and we gotta go!”

They do as told while Louis runs up to his bedroom and grabs 5 bucks and places it in a letter envelope, sealing it with tape. He runs down and slips into his flip flops. “We done here?”

Emily and James make their way to the sink and quietly place their plates in it, rushing to the door where their bags sit.

Louis hands James' lunchbox to him and grabs the keys from the hook near the door.

“First one to the car gets to pick the movie tonight!” Louis says, opening the door and running to the car. James is the first one to the car, sliding into the backseat and pumping his little fist in the air. Emily sulks into the shotgun seat, crossing her arms as she buckles in.

“Buckle up, James!” Louis exclaims as he reads the digital clock on the dashboard. _8:25._ He prays that it isn't traffic somehow.

 

* * *

 

As they pull up into the school's parking lot, the bell for class rings. _8:30._ On time.

Louis gets out of the driver's seat and opens the passenger doors. He quickly wishes them a _have fun at school_ and _I love you, take care_ while kissing their foreheads. He watches them run to the building and into their classes, a big grin on his face.

“Just on time.”

Louis nearly shouts when he hears the voice, quickly turning around and meeting a tall lanky man with hair just dusting his shoulders. He's dressed in a white polo that's buttoned all the way to the top and black skinny jeans that cling to his long legs mercilessly. When Louis, looks up to meet his eyes, the man is grinning widely.

“And you are?” Louis starts, suddenly feeling conscious wearing _flannel pajama pants_ for Christ's sake.

He's freaking out internally because he's never seen someone who looks so much like an angel. If this is how angels look like, Louis is going to back to church.

“I'm Harry, Harry Styles. I'm the new teacher this year.”

Louis feels his heart drop. “What a shame.”

“Why?” Harry is still _grinning_ and it nearly kills Louis. He's dead. He really is.

“My plans of seducing you are foiled.” Louis has enough time to throw in a cheeky smile before Harry starts choking and gripping the top of Louis' car, coughing profusely.

“...Unless you don't swing that way and my gaydar is acting up,” Louis says after a moment, cheeks flushing from embarrassment as Harry slowly stops coughing and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

“No! No, erm, I swing that way. I swing that way _veeery_ much.” Harry's cheeks are red as cherries and Louis finds it painfully endearing. He wants to kiss him so very badly.

“You know, it'd help if you tell me your name,” Harry continues. He leans in close to Louis' ear. “Something to moan later.”

This time it's Louis' turn to choke, and he badly disguises it as a cough. He wills the growing hard-on in his pants to wait a few more minutes so he can go back home and jerk off in the safe confines of his bathroom.

“It's Louis,” He chokes out, blood rushing to his face and arousal pooling in his stomach. “Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry's face breaks out into a delighted grin. “Tomlinson? Are you James' father?”

“What a way to kill my hard-on, Styles,” Louis jokes, which earns a giggle (a giggle!) from Harry. “And yeah, he's my youngest.”

Louis feels sixteen again, hanging out in the parking lot with boys too cute for his own good, cheeks painted cherry red.

“He's a great kid, very creative. His favorite thing to draw are superheroes,” Harry comments, leaning on the car and not looking at Louis. He has a fond smile on his face, which Louis adores.

“Yeah, they're a good bunch. I love them with all my heart. Especially for a single dad who can't get out of bed for his own good.” He chuckles lightly and smiles at the ground, feeling Harry's eyes on him.

“I've got to go, got an art class in 15. I'll see you later though?” Harry asks, smiling hopefully at Louis.

“Yeah, hopefully I'm better dressed by then,” Louis jokes again while Harry laughs.

Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket. “It would be an honor to earn your phone number, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis is giggling as he types in his digits into Harry's phone and places his contact name as Louis tongue emoji, double water droplet emoji.

“I'll text you then...Louis tongue emoji-water emoji-water emoji.” Louis laughs as Harry waves goodbye and walks towards the school, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

Louis turns around and gets into the driver's seat of the car. He drives back home with a grin on his face and his heart beating fast against his chest. This could be a regular thing.

 

* * *

 

When Louis pulls into the garage, the first thing he does when he gets back inside is take a nice long hot shower.

He steps out of his pajamas and tosses them into the laundry basket. Louis turns the shower on and lets the hot droplets hit his back. He closes his eyes and thinks of Harry—his hands all over Louis, his big sinful lips on Louis'—

He comes all over his fist with a barely-concealed moan. Thank God the kids aren't home.

 

* * *

 

Louis cleans the house in the meantime. He _finally_ does the laundry and neatly folds them into the kids' closets. He washes the dishes, makes the beds and goes out to buy groceries.

It nearly hits 2 on the clock when Zayn knocks on the door. They hug for a while and then they bum on the couch.

“Zaynie-poo,” Louis says, “Get the tupperware of weed in the kitchen cabinet, will you.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Magic word?”

“I hope you suck a big fat cock?”

Zayn gives Louis the middle finger while Louis laughs. He's tapping furiously on a game on his phone when he hears Zayn's voice.

“Um, Louis? Are you _sure_ the weed is in the kitchen cabinet?”

“Yeah, it's always been there.” _Game over_ flashes on the screen as Louis misses to swipe a ninja.

Zayn re-enters the living room with a tupperware in his hand. “Well, if you plan on smoking on _a ham and cheese sandwich_ , be my guest.”

“What the fuck? No way. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” Louis walks briskly towards Zayn and snatches the tupperware from his hand. He opens it and finds the ham and cheese sandwich he prepared quickly that morning.

“I brought some of my own stuff, just in case you fucked up like this,” Zayn teases, unzipping his bag on the couch and sliding a Ziploc across the coffee table.

“No, no, no, Zayn. We have to go to school and get the fucking thing before my kid gets expelled.” Louis slips on his worn trainers and the car keys into his pocket. Zayn, on the other hand, kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and starts rolling up a spliff. He looks at Louis who is half-way out the door and motioning for him to come along.

“Do I _really_ have to?” Zayn asks. It's a stupid question.

“As my _best_ friend, Malik, you are obligated to come with me whenever I fuck up. It's in the bro code.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I'm pretty sure the bro code is don't fuck your bro's ex.” He stands up, heads out the door and gets into the car anyway.

Louis slides into driver's seat and starts the car. “I love you, man.”

Zayn rolls down the window and lights up a cig. “You just love me for my weed.”

“I really do love you, man. Platonically,” Louis says as they reach a red light.

Zayn snorts. “Really now?”

“Yeah, really.” He starts driving as the light turns green. “I named James after you.”

Zayn starts laughing. “Sorry to break it to ya, Lou, but James is not my name.”

“Yeah, sure it is,” Louis says, his voice teasing and light. “Your second name, right? Javabean?”

“It's Javaad you dick.”

They're both laughing their asses off as they pull up at school. Louis gets out of the driver's seat and prays that the tupperware didn't catch on fire and James' class isn't high.

Zayn walks up to his side. “Are you praying that the weed didn't magically catch on fire and the class isn't high right now?”

Louis grins. “Great minds think alike, grasshopper.”

“Let's get going shall we?” Zayn says, stepping on his cigarette and dusting off his hands on his black skinny jeans.

Louis takes a deep breath. “We shall.”

 

* * *

 

“Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?”

“Hello, Linda.”

The aging secretary looks up and grins. “Louis! How've you been, boy? Emily and James are _such_ angels, you've raised them so good.”

“Well, I try my best to.”

The conversation is polite and light, but Louis _really_ needs to see James before—

“Louis!”

Louis and Zayn turn around and see Harry, all white-button up and sinful skinny jeans. He's carrying a brown clipboard in one hand and has his hair up in a neat bun, held up together with a pencil. He looks perfectly imperfect. All at once.

“Harry! Nice to see you again,” Louis mutters, his cheeks turning pink at the long pause. He sees Zayn grinning at the sudden withdrawal. “Shut up about this or I'm cutting your balls off.”

Zayn whispers. “Don't worry, Tommo. We're _best friends_ right?”

“Fuck you.” Louis grins at Harry. “So, I kinda, sorta, need to talk to you right now. In private. Alone.”

“Well, that's my cue to leave,” Zayn says loudly, winking at the two of them. Then in a smaller voice: “Wear protection unless you want another baby Tommo.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak. “Well, biologically speaking—”

“Bye, kids! Have fun!” Zayn calls out as he walks out of the building.

A pause follows. The only sound through the whole school lobby is Linda typing away on her old-school typewriter, which must be older than the school itself.

“So,” Harry starts. “In private?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, let's go,” Louis says hurriedly. He looks at the clock—2:30. The kid's will be out at 3:30, giving him an hour to control the damage.

Harry leads Louis into an empty Science lab, judging from the display of laboratory apparatuses in a glass cabinet near the door.

“Lock the door, Styles, can't have any nosy ears listening,” Louis says nervously, piecing together his explanation in his head.

Harry walks over to the door, locking the door swiftly. “Oh my god, I've been waiting for this moment since this morning. Do you prefer giving or receiving? I'm pretty versatile but I prefer being on the receiving end—”

“Oh my god, no,” Louis says, cutting Harry short. Harry's mouth hangs open, cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

“Shit, sorry, I read your signals wrong! Oh my god, I'm so sor—” Harry buries his face in his hands, cheeks burning red.

Louis puts his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Don't get me wrong, Styles, you're fit and I would _love_ to stick my _you know_ in your pretty little arse but I've got a _big_ problem.”

Harry takes his hands off his face and looks at Louis. “Yes, anything! What's up?”

Louis chews on his lip and gives a nervous smile. “I kinda, might of, sorta...accidentally switched James' lunchbox with my weed stash and I need to get it back before I get thrown into jail. Or something.”

Harry starts laughing like a maniac. He's clutching his stomach with one and hand, and steadying himself on Louis with the other. His laugh booms and echoes around the room, and Louis is _not_ impressed.

“Don't have to be a dick about it, mate! We all get mixed up sometimes,” Louis grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry eventually stops laughing after a few minutes and sits on the teacher's table, wiping tears away from his eyes. Louis tries to ignore his dimples (he always had a soft spot for dimples). Harry reaches into his breast pocket and produces a Ziploc of weed.

“Is that…?” Louis says in amazement, pointing at the plastic.

“Lucky for _me_ , I heard James complaining about the _spinach_ in his lunch, so I took the honor of taking it away and giving him my second sandwich.” Harry throws the pack up in the air and catches it with his other hand.

Louis exhales a breath he didn't know he held. “Thanks, Harry.”

“So, what now?” Harry asks, handing the pack to Louis. “Homeroom's not until 3:20.”

“Well, we can either part ways and you go to the bathroom to tend to your... _hard-on_ ,” Louis says, eyes fixed on the bulge in Harry's skinny jeans. “Or, I can roll us a joint, we smoke it right here, and I suck you off on the table where you're sitting on.”

Harry's eyes seem to pop out of his head. He rubs his face in defeat. “Can't you just do it right now?”

“Ah, ah, Harold.” Louis grins as he takes a piece of paper from his pocket and rolls the joint. He lights it and sticks it between his lips. “Patience, grasshopper.”

Louis takes a drag and hands the joint to Harry. The smoke billows out of his mouth easily. Louis feels jittery and nervous, the high kicking in and his eyes deadlocked on Harry's red lips as they pass the joint back and forth. Harry's cheeks are pink and Louis' heart is beating fast. He starts picking at nub the joint has become.

“If you could only see how hot you look right now.”

Harry's already slow voice is somehow slowed down even more. His eyes look greener than ever and Louis has to look away and clear his throat before he starts blushing.

“C'mere.” Louis walks closer to Harry, closing the gap between them and slowly brushes his lips over Harry's.

Harry whimpers as Louis pulls away, his lips following like a magnet. Louis grins and starts kissing Harry's neck softly as Harry starts breathing heavily.

“Lou, please,” Harry whispers, his eyes shut tightly, his hands unbuttoning his pants and zipping off his fly. “Need...need your mouth.”

Louis drops down to his knees as Harry takes out his hard and flushed cock. Louis gulps—not realizing how _big_ it actually is. He leans in and starts licking the tip slowly, closing his eyes. He starts bobbing his head to a non-existent rhythm, using his hands to rub the parts of his cock Louis can't reach.

Harry has trouble containing his moans. He's biting his lip hard and his breathing is labored and he's so _overwhelmed_ at how good Louis is at giving him head, even if he can't take it all in one go.

“Louis,” Harry whines, his voice low and strained. “I'm—I'm going to—”

Louis slips Harry's cock out of his mouth. “On my face. Do it, please.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispers as Louis' closes his eyes and he releases, strings of white cum decorating his eyelashes, his lips and cheeks. “You look...absolutely _gorgeous._ ”

Louis slowly opens his eyes. “'ppreciate the sentiment, Harold.”

Louis walks over to the sink in the corner of the room, grabbing a clean-looking flannel and washing his cum-covered face as Harry zips his pants back up and cleaning the little bits that missed Louis' face and went on the floor.

“You...you don't want me to return the favour?” Harry asks tentatively. Louis dries his face on a paper towel and tosses it in the trash.

“I'll take care of it, but thank you for offering.” Louis throws in a wink, which makes Harry grin.

The ringing of the school bell can be faintly heard from outside the lab doors. “Oh, crap,” Harry says. “That's the homeroom bell. I—I gotta go.”

Louis sticks his hands in his pockets and nods. “Yeah, yeah. You should—um—probably go.”

The air is tense and awkward, and Louis feels like a giddy teenager with their crush.

“Um,” Harry says after a long pause. “After this, when I'm not saving your arse from getting in jail, would you mind going on a, um, date? With me?”

Louis grins. “Why of course, Harold. Just text me, or call me, or mail me if that's your cup of tea.”

He's rambling at this point, but there's just _something_ about Harry that makes him nervous and unsettling.

“It's actually _just_ Harry, but I'm Harold if you call me Harold.” Harry's voice is so fond and his shoulders are slumped and Louis _swears_ he can see hearts in his eyes.

“Well, _just_ Harry, you better get your cute little ass to that homeroom class before your students set it on fire,” Louis says jokingly, but his voice is surprisingly fond.

“Aye aye, captain,” Harry says, opening the door and walking out. He shoots Louis a big grin before running off to his classroom.

Louis stays in the lab for a while, taking in the scent of sex and weed. He opens the windows and hopes the smell wafts out before someone gets suspicious. He shoots a quick text to Harry, “ _Im free on tuesday and thursday afternoon. Theres a cute coffee shop just a block away from my house. U good? X”_ and one to Zayn, “ _Ha ! I still give great head :)”._

 

_* * *_

 

He walks out of the science lab and heads over to the waiting area of the school. As dismissal time draws closer, parents start filing in, waiting for their kids. The bell rings at 3:30, on the dot and Louis looks over the sea of running children for his two kids.

He sees Harry at first—curly hair and all. Then, he notices he's holding two hands. Emily and James are at his side, and they're engaged in a conversation. Harry looks so at ease with them with Emily and James fighting over his attention.

Harry's eyes catch Louis' and he grins, attention no longer on Emily nor James, but all on Louis.

This could work.

 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @wellingtoncurse


End file.
